Some people are born into routine, and others are born to break it. These are the dreamers who rise, pack their lives, and walk toward a future not yet created. They walk because within them burns an idea greater than themselves, a belief that a better world can come into being.

Thus began the journey of Abraham, our patriarch, and likewise the journey of Theodor Herzl. Both heard an inner voice calling to them “Lech lecha,” to leave the familiar and step into a broad future of moral renewal. Both turned dreams into life’s work, shaping our collective identity and message to humanity.

The Torah portions Lech Lecha, Vayera, and Hayei Sarah form a trilogy of leadership, from vision to continuity. Abraham and Herzl lived in different worlds but shared a mission: to build a moral society in the Promised Land.

‘From your land,’ moral responsibility

In Lech Lecha, Abraham leaves his land, idols, and comfort for a higher calling. In Vayera, he pleads for Sodom, seeking to save even the wicked – a profound act of moral responsibility.

Herzl, in Altneuland, envisioned a state founded not on power but on social justice, equality, and compassion.
Both knew that a nation’s greatness lies in its moral compass, not its might.

‘HERZL UNDERSTOOD the value of a great photo’: Theodor Herzl in Basel, 1897.
‘HERZL UNDERSTOOD the value of a great photo’: Theodor Herzl in Basel, 1897. (credit: Wikimedia Commons)

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook described Herzl as Mashiah ben Yosef, the one who brings material-moral redemption, igniting the spark of national-moral revival that would mature into spiritual renewal.

Today, as Israel faces moral trials and deep division, we, too, must leave our “land,” step out of cynicism and fear, and choose compassion, responsibility, and faith in the human spirit. True national vision must always be moral.

The axis of identity, ‘from your homeland’

When Abraham left his homeland, he was commanded to become “the father of many nations,” a shift from the particular to the universal, from one tribe to all humanity.

His open tent in the desert became a timeless symbol of hospitality. Jewish identity, Abraham teaches, is defined not only by belief but by moral conduct, by how we welcome and care for others.

Herzl saw the Jewish state as a moral beacon, modeling justice and ethical governance. Rabbi Kook interpreted Zionism as a sacred movement, a revelation of the nation’s inner soul.

The message is clear: Jewish identity cannot thrive in isolation. It must radiate outward, offering a moral example. “And through you,” God tells Abraham, “shall all the families of the earth be blessed.”

In our time, this means an Israeli identity that is inclusive and compassionate, one that embraces difference as part of the Abrahamic vision.

‘From your father’s house,’ from hierarchy to covenant

Leaving his father’s house marked a break from inherited authority and the birth of a new leadership paradigm, grounded not in control but in covenant and example.

Abraham’s leadership came from faith and courage, not royal power. He led by dialogue and moral conviction. Herzl, too, was a “leader of an idea,” whose authority stemmed from vision and moral persuasion, not domination. Rabbi Kook saw Herzl as a prophet of the nation’s soul, a man whose leadership drew on spiritual strength, not political control.

Both modeled leadership that transcends ego, invites shared responsibility, and turns vision into reality.
Today, we must recover this covenantal model – leadership that unites rather than divides, listens rather than commands, and draws legitimacy from moral clarity.

Axis of time and continuity of vision

In Hayei Sarah, the Torah records: “And Abraham expired, and died in a good old age, old and full of years; and he was gathered unto his people” (Genesis 25:8).

Abraham’s death was not an end but a beginning. He left behind not merely descendants but a moral legacy – a covenantal movement shaping humanity’s conscience.

Herzl, too, died before seeing his vision realized, yet his dream endured. Both remind us that true leadership plants seeds whose fruit may ripen generations later. Vision transcends mortality; the moral project continues beyond the individual.

‘The land I will show you,’ call of our generation

Abraham and Herzl, each in his world, taught that the journey to the land is a journey into the unseen future, one rooted in faith, morality, and hope. Their legacies converge into one message: build a society where justice precedes power, compassion tempers strength, and human dignity is sacred.

Rabbi Kook believed Israel’s national revival must be a moral and spiritual awakening, that redemption is not only territorial but ethical. The divine call “Lech lecha” is eternal, summoning each generation to rise from despair and believe the future can be remade.

After October 7, when Israel’s heart is wounded and its social fabric torn, the call of “Lech lecha” sounds with renewed urgency. We are summoned to a new moral, identity, and leadership journey – from hatred to responsibility, from fragmentation to covenant, from despair to hope.

Abraham and Herzl both showed that vision is born from rupture. Crisis, though painful, is the womb of renewal. From grief can grow compassion; from pain, a deeper covenant. Our generation’s “Lech lecha” is a call to rebuild, to turn tragedy into moral strength, fear into courage, and polarization into shared responsibility.

The challenge of our time is not only to survive but to dream again – to dream, like Abraham and like Herzl, of a society whose justice is greater than its vengeance, whose compassion is stronger than its fear, and whose faith in humanity endures.

This is the land the Lord has shown us, not a land of borders alone, but a land of hearts; a land where vision and morality walk together toward a future of repair, hope, and peace.

The writer is head of the Sal Van Gelder Center for Holocaust Instruction and Research, Faculty of Education, Bar-Ilan University.